Honesty and Permission
by rhinosgirl
Summary: In season 3/12 " A Matter Of Life And Death" Mitch tells Hobie "you're gonna be whatever you wanna be". This is an added scene that follows the kitchen scene in season 8/1 "Rookie Summer " and actually remembers and reaffirms that promise! Spoilers for above episodes.
1. Foreword

Welcome to my first attempt at a fanfic.

Thanks to anotherjaneway, whose suggestions and questions helped turned this conversation piece into an actual story. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone.

I am a proud New Zealander. I unashamedly use local spellings and sayings. If you don't understand something, please ask!

Please read, enjoy, and review!


	2. Epiphany

HONESTY AND PERMISSION

As Mitch Buchannon ascended the wooden staircase, his son's words haunted him. Earlier that day, potential contenders had participated in the final race to select this season's Baywatch Rookie School. His son, Hobie, had qualified, though only just. While they were preparing tacos for dinner, the experienced lifeguard had made his irritation clear in no uncertain terms. As he neared his destination, he also had to admit to himself that he hadn't listened to his son at all.

(FLASHBACK)

"You know, I was a little surprised you finished so far back this morning." Mitch deliberately kept his voice matter-of-fact.

"At least I made it, right? It's not like Junior Guards. I was up against college kids." Hobie hated that he sounded whiny, like he was begging his father for a compliment.

"Yeah, well, I thought you'd be more competitive. You hardly broke a sweat." The man's frustration was now clearly evident.

"Once again, I fail to live up to your standards." Hobie couldn't keep still, nor could he contain his annoyance at his parent's reaction.

"All right, look, we haven't really talked about this. But if your heart's not into it, maybe you shouldn't be out there." Mitch tried to calm the situation by offering the only solution he could fathom. After all, life guarding was everything to him. It was all or nothing.

This ultimatum only served to make Hobie even angrier. "Dad! Just because I don't eat, sleep and breathe life guarding, doesn't mean I'm not into it." He took a breath to compose himself. "Besides, no matter how good I do, I'm always going to be compared to you. It's not easy following in the footsteps of a living legend. You might want to take that into consideration." His tone was half pleading, half placating.

"Maybe I will." The father had meant these words to be light-hearted and teasing. Looking back, even he had to admit they just came out egotistical and condescending.

(END FLASHBACK)


	3. Tumult

Up In his bedroom, Hobie glowered at the history textbook lying open on the desk in front of him. After dinner, he'd excused himself under the pretext of homework. In reality, he was hiding. He hadn't actually wanted to race that morning, but, long ago, his Dad had given him an ultimatum. Of course he'd chosen Rookie School over Summer School, and he'd been elated with what he had accomplished. Out of hundreds of competitors, he was in the top 15 – even betting people older and more qualified than himself. However, as soon as he saw his father's face, he could tell the man was dissatisfied. All the signs were there: the cold shoulder, the curt tone, the hurried movements. Lieutenant Mitch Buchannon was one unhappy male. Not that the older man's displeasure was anything new. He only ever wanted one thing from his child. Better, always better. Still, it was what followed his father's pre-dinner tirade that left him seething.

(FLASHBACK)

"It's not easy following in the footsteps of a living legend. You might want to take that into consideration."

"Maybe I will."

"Thankyou."

"You're welcome."

To forestall more criticism, Hobie shifted the subject to what he assumed would be neutral territory. Boy, was he wrong!

"So, anyway, what did the chief say about your promotion?" Hobie knew that the decision had been made that day.

"Well, we had a long talk about it this morning." Mitch didn't immediately volunteer more information, so Hobie prompted him.

"So, when's it gonna go through?"

"Ah, it's not. I turned it down", Mitch admitted.

"You're not gonna be Captain? Why?" Hobie stared at his father, incredulous.

Mitch stated decisively, "Because it's not I want in my life right now."

"Dad, when I say that about college you go ballistic." Hobie didn't believe what he was hearing.

"Hobester, I'm at a point in my life where I need to figure out what's coming next. So I told the chief 'Just give me a tower so I can watch my water. I wanna be a normal, everyday lifeguard again.' "

(END FLASHBACK)

Reflecting on that conversation. Hobie fumed at his parent's hypocrisy. The man had berated his son for apparently not pushing himself enough. Then he had turned down a promotion just because it would have taken him outside his comfort zone!

Hobie yearned for his Dad to leave him alone until morning. He needed that space to regain his equilibrium, so that, come tomorrow, he could act naturally. So desperate was he for isolation, he even pondered the possible consequences of a teen going to bed before 8pm. Maybe if -

KNOCK KNOCK


	4. Congruence

Mitch tapped hesitantly on Hobie's bedroom door.

Hobie schooled his features into what he hoped was a neutral expression, as he turned to face the door behind him. "Come in." He breathed a silent prayer that the tremor in his voice was undetectable, or better yet, imaginary.

The man entered, holding a small gift-wrapped box, and stopped in the middle of the room. He glanced between Hobie, on his left, and the roughly made double bed, on his right, as if unsure what to do next. Finally, he turned toward Hobie and started talking.

"I was going to give this" holding up the box "to you when you came first today. When you didn't, I was going to take it back."

"What changed your mind?"

"You did." Hobie raised his eyebrows. "You seemed resigned to always disappointing me." Hobie lowered his eyes and nervously fingered the hem of his blue shirt.

"What was your goal today?" The Lieutenant's question was gentle.

"Huh?" Hobie had been expecting more censure, so the query took him completely by surprise.

"What was your goal today?" The lifeguard patiently repeated the question.

"Honestly? I just wanted to qualify."

"Then this is for you." The man indicated the box in his left hand. "I shouldn't have been disappointed by your achievement. It's not my standards you have to live up to. It's your own. And you did. You decided where you wanted to be, and you got there. Not many people would have the motivation and single-mindedness to set a target, form a plan to achieve it, and stick to it – for months." He stressed these last two words by reaching out and squeezing Hobie's left bicep.

Hobie replied quietly, "It's just not the goal you would have set."

"Doesn't matter." Mitch shook his head. "I'm not the only one in this room mature enough to determine the next step in their life. You're right. You don't have to eat, sleep, and breathe lifeguarding."

"Wow. You're admitting I'm right, can't remember the last time that happened." A slight grin fleetingly crossed Hobie's face.

The abashed parent lifted his hand from Hobie's arm to Hobie's chin, tilting the boy's head so his son had no choice but to look at him. "That ought to make me very proud – and it does."

"What? Me being right?"

"And smart. And intelligent. And tenacious. And driven. And still willing to talk to me when I've been such an ass." Mitch's tone was sheepish.

"Hey, I'm used to it." This time the grin was fuller, lasted longer.

"I'm sorry." Mitch raised his hands to forestall the interruption. "I'm sorry I made you feel inadequate. I'm sorry I made today about me. This is not about me."

"Yes, it is." Hobie contradicted him. "It's about us, you are half of us, therefore it is about you." He paused. "You do realise a hornet's nest is best left undisturbed, don't you?"

"Is that what this is? A hornet's nest?"

"Things weren't bad between us."

"They obviously weren't great, either."

Hobie contemplated. "That's true. 'Resigned' is the perfect word. I was resigned to never being as good as you – never being good enough for you – never having you proud of me." His voice tapered off tentatively. "Now you're telling me I don't have to be resigned to these things. But I don't know how not to be. So I'm not sure what comes next."

"You don't change, that's what comes next." Hobie cocked his head enquiringly. "I'm the one who stuffed up. I'm the one who has to change, unless I want to lose you until I get diagnosed with a terminal illness and come to my senses."

"Not gonna happen." Hobie said quickly.

His obviously sceptical parent snorted.

"Dad," Hobie gently and firmly interjected, "it will never happen. Our relationship won't end like that because we won't let it. I am not you, and you are not Grandad."

Mitch stared, his mouth agape. He had not known that Hobie had been aware of the chasm that had existed between the two men. Tears coursed down his face; both for the pain he'd caused his son, and for the missed opportunities with his own Dad.

Hobie was not used to seeing his father crying, although he surmised it had something to do with his grandfather. So he prompted him, "What did you want from Grandad, when you told him you weren't going to be what he wanted?"

The rebel lifeguard considered. "Permission to be me." He said simply.

"Why? So when you failed you could blame him?" Hobie searched his Dad's face for answers, genuinely trying to find the source of his pain.

"No." Mitch's reply was immediate. "So when I succeeded, I could thank him."

"And if you failed?" Hobie pinched his bottom lip in his teeth apprehensively, not convinced he was ready for the answer.

"My decision. My failure. My responsibility." Mitch patted the chest of his white shirt three times for emphasis.

Hobie giggled. He couldn't help it. He was his father after all. Mitch raised his brow. Hobie suspected that was not what the man need to hear in that instant, given his father's fears for their future relationship, so he just shrugged, beaming from ear to ear. But then, maybe, he thought, in the interests of full disclosure and mutual understanding …. "Me too," he admitted. "So if I'm honest about who and what I want to be, do I have permission to be me, and not The Son of Mitch Buchannon, Living Legend?"

"Absolutely. I don't like thinking of you thinking of yourself as The Son of Mitch Buchannon, Living Legend, anyway. I'd prefer to think of you thinking of yourself as the son of Mitch Buchannon, Dad."

"Deal." Hobie stuck out his hand to shake on it. He was astonished when his father pulled him into a hug, kissed him on the forehead, and handed him the box.


End file.
